My gaze meandering, I was reminded of the basket. Grunting, I set down my hat and sat up, shimmying my shoulders up the backrest cushion and looking around once more. There was still no sign of the spirit. I paused to make sure. With one final glance, I took the basket and slipped inside, unloading the perishables to the fridge. I left the bread on the counter, wrapping it with some paper, and returned the basket to its place next to my flower basket.
At the door, I considered changing out of my tight clothes. Perhaps I had the leisure to. At the very least, I unbuttoned my jacket and left it on a dining chair. Reasoning I might miss the spirit, I returned outside.
Stepping out, I abruptly stopped, almost flinching. There, at the table, was the spirit, sitting in one of the chairs facing towards me. It was almost comical how much taller the back of the chair was compared to its small body. Its face was completely covered by the brim of my hat as it held it on its head with both hands. The flower it clutched earlier was laid on the table. The spirit froze as I slid the door open, keeping its hands glued to the brim of the hat, daring not to move. Eventually, it slowly lifted its head, peeking out from underneath, its lips pinched together. Its eyes were cautious, wide as ever. I stared back. Neither of us moved.
Then, in a slow waltz, I slipped out the house, touching the warm hardwood porch with my naked feet, sliding the door gently behind me and tiptoeing to my chair, sitting down. The spirit did not move, but followed me with its head.
There we were once again, sat face to face across a table, staring at each other in silence. She was the little girl once more. I did not have any tea to offer her this time, nor a teacup to hide behind. She did have my hat as cover, though that was not something I was willing to let her keep. Dropping her hands to the table, she looked like a creature in a rabbit hole, popping her head out of a burrow. She gave me her full attention.
“The hat, please.”
I kept my voice as gentle as I could, but as a consequence, it came out as a bit of a croak. The girl did not move.
I cleared my throat. “Can I have my hat, please?”
She still didn’t move. I was certain she heard me, as her eyes subtly responded to my voice, flicking about. Looking closely, they were vague and watchful; observant. No signs of anger or spite. She sat up a little, her head just barely beginning to tilt. She was confused.
Did she not know what a hat was? I slowly reached up to my head and patted it. “Hat.” Then, I dropped my hand and extended it, palm up, holding it in front of the girl. She watched it carefully, her eyes following it down to the table and locking there. Only then did I realise my arm was pointed at the flower, as if I were presenting it. I slackened my arm, hesitant on what to say next. The coincidence probably confused her even more.
I bit my lip in annoyance then shook my head, pausing for just a moment before I patted my head again. “No, I mean… this is a hat.” Raising the other arm, I motioned in the air with both hands, bringing my fingers together and circling them around my head as if they were running along the brim of a hat. She looked up, and her eyes took on a new character, seemingly understanding. Her eyes floated to the sky, as if she just realised there was something on her head. Then, they dropped to the table, her big eyes narrowing to a mope. Reluctantly, the girl tilted her head down and lifted the hat off. She held it in front of her with both hands, staring at it longingly, before she finally reached out to the table and replaced the flower with the hat. I waited for her to pull back before I dropped my arms, picking up the hat and returning it to my head.
“Thank you.”
The girl kept her hands on the table, clutching the flower by the stem. She told everything with her eyes, which were now conveying a dejected emotion. Her head was still drawn in towards her chest, making her eyes like a puppy’s as she stared up at me. I tried to give her a little bit of a guilty smile.
“Look, sorry about earlier, but I can’t have you going out and playing with strangers. You don’t know who is fine with the spirits and who is not.”
She sunk into her shoulders and sullenly nodded.
“Where were you this morning, anyway?”
The spirit girl raised her head to stare at me. Then, as if realising she had an arm, she raised it up and stretched it towards me with her palm up, just as I did earlier. I leaned forward to see what she was showing me, only to realise she meant to point with her hand.
“… Me?”
She nodded. It took me a few moments before I understood.
“… Oh… You were following me when I left.”
The girl nodded. She did well to stay hidden. I was glad she did. Even with Jane, I was not prepared to explain myself.
“… But… before that, though. Where were you before I left the house?”
Sitting up, she pivoted her arm to the side, her head following. I stared beyond the shade of our porch, out at the backyard clearing.
“The flowers?”
Dropping her arm, she turned back to me and nodded.
I relaxed my shoulders. She truly was a child, after all. “When did you wake up?”
The girl looked at me with uncertainty.
“… Right. That’s not a question you can answer.”
Lowering her chin to the table, she nodded, ashamed. She certainly looked like an animal now that she was clutching the table so closely. I sat back in my chair, turning my focus away from the girl and out towards the clearing. Resting my elbows on the armrest and gripping my hands together, I let out a lengthy breath as I leaned back, my straw hat squeaking as I flattened the brim behind my head. I took in my surroundings: sitting on a porch, shaded from the summer sun, surrounded by the flowered clearing, with a spirit. Thinking about it once more reminded me how strange it felt; how novel my world became when I accepted this reality. Out in the forest, the chirping of cicadas swelled to take over the atmosphere. The girl finally turned her head away from me to stare at what I was staring at. As the wind picked up, I realised how sweaty I was once more. I brought an arm up to wipe my forehead.
“How long do you intend to stay? A week?”
The girl did not immediately respond. She kept her gaze on the clearing, watching the ebb and flow of the sun’s rays as it ducked in and out behind the clouds.
“…… I see… You love this flower field.”
She nodded vigorously, her gaze still fixated on the treasure she found. Her enthusiasm revealed a glimmer of hope as she determined I finally understood her. The nodding gradually waned, and her shoulders dropped, her body becoming still as a statue.